


Seduction 101

by polyamory



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Clubbing, Crying, First Time, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Derek, Pining Spencer, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/pseuds/polyamory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer asks Derek to teach him how to flirt, Penelope has to endure pining Derek and takes matters into her own hands and that's how Spencer and Derek end up at the club together for "practical seduction lessons." Things go down as you might expect them to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seduction 101

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Seduction in Four Easy Steps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/182363) by [elandrialore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elandrialore/pseuds/elandrialore). 



> i wrote the last half of this at three am and it turned out way more emotional than i expected (for a second i thought i was rlly gonna write sex but lol)  
> anyways here have this hope u like it!!  
> as always my beta was emerson, if anything is wrong it's because i ignored his advice (peace out)

"You gotta work with what you have," Derek says. "Cause if it's not real and you're not comfortable, then it won't work for you no matter what. Being sexy is all about being comfortable. In your outfit and in your own skin."

"So your advice is essentially just 'be yourself'? I could've gotten that from a middle school motivational poster," Spencer quips.

It's Friday evening so the office is pretty much deserted– they're some  of the last people there. Still, Spencer feels very exposed when Derek steps close to him and grabs one of his wrists, unbuttoning the shirt sleeve and rolling it up.

"Hey, you asked for my advice and this is my advice. Now, you like to wear a suit. We can work with that. Women like men in suits, even more if you can relax in one," Derek says, rolling Spencer's other sleeve up, too.

Derek considers him for a moment, looking him up and down, before reaching up and popping one more button at Spencer's collar.

"See? That's better," Derek smiles.

"Not much of a change," Spencer says, looking down at his own lanky frame.

"That's what I'm saying: you don't have to change that much about yourself, you shouldn't have to. Besides, trying too hard, that never looks good. Remember Viper, that 'pick up artist' Prentiss took down a few years back? You don't wanna look like him, do you?"

"No," Spencer says, shuddering at the mere thought.

"See? So just be you, pretty boy."

"That's what I've been doing for the last couple years I don't think it's coming over that well," Spencer mumbles.

"Shush, kid, you've got a lot of things going for you," Derek says, patting him on the back encouragingly. Or at least Spencer thinks it's supposed to be encouraging. With his leg still not back to 100% it mostly just makes his knees wobble.

"Oh, really?"

Spencer couldn't help his sarcastic reply. Months of watching the guy he was (kind of maybe sort of) falling for flirt with people more beautiful and alluring than he could hope to be has made him a little bitter. He knows, of course, that he can't blame Derek, let alone  the people he takes home, because none of them even know. Still, it is its own kind of torture.

And okay, maybe Spencer thought maybe if he could be like those people that catch Derek's eye and make him grin and wink, then maybe he could flirt with Derek, seduce him.

And who better to help him perfect his skills than the man himself? Spencer could learn exactly what Derek likes and what works for him. The person who would teach him how to woo Derek Morgan is Derek Morgan.

"Sure," Derek says like he's never been more sure of anything in his life. "You're clever, you're funny and you're pretty."

Spencer wants to scream, but instead he just scoffs. "You're the one who always tells me I talk too much." You're the one who's never interested when I try to impress you. "I think the majority of times when people laugh they're laughing at me, not with me."

"Ah," Derek shakes his head, leaning back against Spencer's desk, "I said you don't listen enough and talk too much for that. You have to listen to the people you're trying to seduce and actually respond to them, engage them, instead of just talking at them."

Spencer thinks this over for a moment and it does appear to be logically sound.

"Look, here's what I think," Derek says, holding his hands out in front of him, palm up, "you listen to people talk but all the while there's a thousand thoughts buzzing through your head and most of them come spilling out of your mouth."

"That's just who I am," Spencer says, feeling defensive and also a little offended. "I know how to talk to people, that's my job. If I were as bad at it as you say, then..." he trails off.

"You're good at talking to unsubs. I never doubted that and it was never in question, Reid. But women?" Derek chuckles.

"So what do I do, then?" Spencer asks, catching up to Derek, who’s started walking to the elevator.

"You are clever. I did mean that, and it's impressive," Derek says, pressing the elevator button. "Just make sure to listen."

"I am," Spencer says, affronted.

"To your partner, Reid," Derek laughs. "Even if you're talking you have to listen to what they're telling you with their body language. This is the part you fail at. Are they still interested in what you're saying? Are they getting bored? Pay attention to the signals they're sending and respond accordingly. You're good at reading body language. Just– don't profile them," he adds.

"Lesson's over for today, kid," Derek laughs, ruffling Spencer's hair. Walking off to his car, he calls out, "See you on Monday!"

* * *

 

As soon as Derek gets into his car he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, breathing out heavily. It's Friday night; the week has been tough enough and in times of great turmoil everyone needs to take a moment to relax sometimes.

And Spencer asking him to help him learn how to fucking flirt, to teach him “Seduction 101” is definitely cause for great turmoil. It's almost hilarious if it weren't so fucking sad. As if Spencer needs any help seducing someone. He sure has Derek wrapped around his little finger, after all.

But Derek is also his friend, first and foremost, and that means he's gonna help Spencer even if it means helping Spencer go home with someone else.

Okay, maybe it isn't all that selfless. Maybe he also wants the world to finally see what he's seen in Spencer for so long. Maybe he wants all those girls who scoffed at Spencer to be sorry they ever let him go in the first place. Maybe he just wants to see what a Spencer would look like who's confident in his own skin, charming and knows how to play to his strength.

On the other hand, if he ever sees that, Derek thinks he might just spontaneously combust, because even Spencer now– lanky, awkward, sharp-angled Spencer– has him absolutely gone.

He almost blurted it out, too, when Spencer complained about how just being himself wasn't coming over so well.

“Spencer,” Derek almost said, “you have no idea how wild you drive me.”

He has to call Penelope, he decides, he can't stand thinking about this alone and sober for one more minute. Luckily for him Penelope is still in her office, so a mere ten minutes later she's getting into the car with him.

"What troubles you, my modern day Mr. Darcy?" Penelope asks but before he can say anything she goes on, "No, wait, let me guess, it starts with 'S' and ends with 'pencer Reid.'"

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" Derek grins, already feeling better now that his best friend is here.

"I know I am," Penelope shoots back. "Come on, get driving, I don't wanna spend my Friday night in the FBI parking lot."

"No? How do you want to spend your Friday night?"

"A movie, some wine and a tub of ice cream. Sound good?"

"You know me inside out, woman," Derek says, shaking his head.

"And you better remember it," Penelope laughs as Derek pulls out of the parking lot.

The drive to Penelope's place passes in silence, just the radio playing softly in the background.

"So," Penelope starts once they're both settled on the couch and their glasses are filled. "what's our genius in a bottle done this time to devastate you?"

"He doesn't devastate me," Derek protests but Penelope just gives him a really unimpressed look over the frame of her glasses. Right, she knows him better than to believe that.

"He asked me to teach him how to seduce someone," Derek sighs, rubbing his chin with one hand.

"And you agreed," Penelope shakes her head, laughing a little.

"Of course I did, what was I supposed to say? No sorry, I don't have time I'm too busy pining for you?"

"Oh so you do admit that what you're doing is pining, yeah?" she asks, taking a sip of wine, all smug and laughing.

"Don't mock my pain, woman," Derek says, taking a big swallow from his own glass.

"I will never understand why you don't just tell him," Penelope says after a moment, staring into the middle distance.

"Oh yeah? Just like you did?" Derek asks, sinking down further into the couch.

"Hey," she turns to look at him, "that is a totally different situation."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Emily and JJ are a couple, Spencer is single. Also, you're you and I'm-"

"Fantastic? Wonderful? Astonishing? Incredibly amazing?"

Penelope snorts. "You talk smoother than a satin factory, Der-bear."

"Only for my baby girl, you know that."

"What am I gonna do, Penelope?" Derek sighs an hour and two wine bottles later.

"Honey, you climbed into that hole yourself, now you’ve gotta try to dig your way out."

"I did not climb into that hole," Derek says, leveling a finger at Penelope.

"No,” she cackles, “but you wish you had."

"I swear to god," he groans, throwing a coaster in her general direction. It just makes her laugh harder.

Derek wakes up on Penelope's couch with a crick in his neck and a reminder from his body that alcohol is still poison. At first he doesn't know what woke him but then his phone buzzes again, screen lighting up with a new text messages.

"What the hell," he grumbles to himself. Who would be texting him at– he squints at the too bright screen– 5:40 am on a Saturday?

"What should I wear?" the text message reads when he opens it. That does nothing to clear up his confusion and he has to scroll back up and read the last few messages.

The text is from Spencer, the second in a row in reply to a message Derek doesn't remember sending – and judging by the three emojis at the end he didn't send it. The message reads "You and me, pretty boy 9pm @the club I'll pick you up B) B) B)"

"Penelope, what the–" he curses in the dark, falling back onto the couch.

He's about to reply and tell Spencer that it was a misunderstanding and he's sorry when he thinks, you know what? Fuck it.

"Just wear something you're comfortable in," he texts back.

He's asleep again before a reply comes through.

"Oh, hell no," Derek says as soon as he sees what Spencer is wearing.

"What? You said wear something I'm comfortable in," Spencer protests as Derek comes into his apartment.

"I didn't mean 'wear your pajamas,'" Derek says. Spencer is wearing a large sweatshirt from Caltech and pants that look soft and comfortable but not like clubwear by any stretch of the imagination.

"They're not my–" Spencer starts but stops when Derek keeps walking to where he presumes is Spencer's bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Spencer calls, coming after him.

"Is this you closet?" Derek asks, pointing at a closed door. "I'm looking for a reasonable outfit for you. Come on, Spencer. I thought you wanted to learn how to seduce. Work with me here," Derek does his best 'I'm convincing you' eyes (not the same thing as puppy eyes, Penelope, thank you).

"Alright," Spencer sighs.

Fifteen minutes later, the floor of Spencer's bedroom is covered in discarded clothes, Derek standing in the middle of the chaos, waiting for Spencer to come out of the bathroom.

"C'mon, kid, what's taking you so long?" he calls.

There's a dull thump and then Spencer finally opens the door. Derek's mouth goes very dry all of a sudden at the sight before him.

Spencer is wearing skinny jeans that are _tight_ , and a little too short so that Spencer's ankles are just visible above his sneakers. His shirt is not as tight but it has a V-neck collar that looks like Spencer pulled on it one time too many. It exposes his collarbone in the most tantalizing way.

Derek shakes his head to get his thoughts back on track.

"That bad?" Spencer asks.

"No, no," Derek manages before swallowing heavily. "It's good, perfect club wear. They're gonna be all over you," Derek grins.

"Great," Spencer says but his answering smile looks forced.

"Come on, kid, I thought this was what you wanted. I'm showing you how to flirt. Proper packaging is part of the process. You can't expect everyone to just know right off the bat you're something special. They don't all know you like I do." He almost swallows his tongue when he realizes what just slipped out. A little too much truth, maybe.

But Spencer's smile looks more real now and after all, all that counts is that Spencer has a good time.

That's why he's doing this, Derek reminds himself, to help a friend out. To help out Spencer. Spencer who is his friend.

"Okay, let's go," Derek says, clapping Spencer on the back and ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach that tells him to leave his hand there and not let go.

An indefinite amount of time later in the club and Derek is regretting every choice he made in his life that lead to him being here in this moment. Spencer is across the room on the dance floor, Derek keeps losing and finding his form in the twitching strobe lights, and there's someone dancing with him. Derek can't make out any more details about the person from this distance. The club is packed full, the music is just this side of too loud and worst of all, the ice in his drink has melted while he wasn't paying attention.

He takes a sip of the watery mixture, makes a face and puts the glass on the table behind him. Maybe if he dances he'll feel better. And maybe his eyes will stop automatically scanning the crowd for Spencer without his permission.

He would say he doesn't know why it bothers him that Spencer was successful in flirting, which was the whole point of this expedition, but he's had just enough to drink that he can't bullshit himself anymore.

So maybe he wants Spencer to dance with him and yeah, maybe he wants Spencer to try out his new skills on Derek, maybe he wants Spencer to put his arms around Derek's neck, maybe he wants to put his mouth on Spencer's collarbone, maybe he wants that.

(Maybe it isn’t a 'maybe.')

When he looks up there's a familiar figure just a few steps away from him and somehow is treacherous feet have carried him all the way across the dance floor while he wasn't paying attention and now the crowd is pushing and pulling at him and bringing him closer and closer to Spencer. Spencer who, Derek realizes, isn't dancing with anyone anymore.

Sure, there are a good handful of people eyeing him up, some even swaying forward into Spencer's personal space, but Spencer is swaying to the beat, his eyes closed, his head down and he looks completely lost in the moment.

Derek would hate to break him out of it but then Spencer twists just as Derek is pushed forward by the crowd at his back and Spencer practically steps into his arms.

His eyes snap open and land on Derek's face. His arms come down as he loses his easy rhythm, landing on Derek's shoulders and then, a second later, flutter up again as if Spencer's been burned by the touch.

"Sorry," he calls over the music, out of breath and his skin shining with a thin layer of sweat.

"Shouldn't you be dancing with someone?" Derek asks, leaning forward to speak directly into Spencer's ear. Spencer shudders just the slightest bit, Derek would've missed it if they weren't standing so close.

He can feel Spencer hesitating and the anticipation weighs heavy on Derek's tongue even when he has no idea what it is he's waiting for.

"I am, aren't I?" Spencer calls back finally, his words hot against the shell of Derek's ear, and all the breath leaves Derek's lungs in one big whoosh.

* * *

 

Spencer's lips are just barely brushing Derek's ear and the words that are leaving his mouth are hot-cold and daring. His heart is beating a punishing rhythm in his chest from more than just exhaustion. He's sweaty and hot but somehow, all of a sudden, his palms are clammy.

The alcohol must've loosened his tongue, because how else would he explain those words? Except he made sure not to drink too much, always watches himself with how much he drinks around Derek because scenarios like this exactly haunt his nightmares and worst fantasies. A slip of the tongue, a few uncensored words and years of friendship are destroyed.

Except in all his worst case scenarios Derek has already pushed him away by this point, has already recoiled in disgust. But maybe that was never true to Derek's nature anyways, Spencer thinks. No, Derek is loyal, even with all his one hundred and one trust issues. But he is also Derek, Derek who is so far out of Spencer's league it would almost be hilarious (if it weren't so painful).

Any moment now Derek will ease away, look at Spencer with that earnest look in his eyes. He'll try to let Spencer down easy and Spencer will nod, maybe manage a smile, and then he'll go home and break down in privacy. Just, don't let Derek see there's no version of this where it's 'easy,' there's no version where he doesn't break Spencer's heart. But Derek can't know that because the guilt would eat him alive.

Spencer snaps out of his spiraling thoughts when someone bumps against him, pushes him that much closer to Derek, closing the gap between them. Derek who is still standing right there, Derek who hasn't moved away even an inch since Spencer breathed his confession into the space between them.

Derek reaches out to steady him when Spencer sways forward, one hand coming up to rest on the small of Spencer's back. Derek's hand seems impossibly big and unbearably hot through the thin fabric of Spencer's shirt.

"You are," Derek breathes, more a realization than a real question and Spencer doesn't dare look up, too afraid of what he'll be able to read in Derek's eyes, but the tension building in the space between them finally gets too much and he looks up, glancing at Derek from under his lashes.

Derek's mouth is open slightly and his lower lip is glistening as if he's just licked his lip, a nervous habit Spencer has observed in the past. Derek's lips look soft and infinitely inviting and the sight of them, barely a breath away, makes Spencer want to sin.

The crowd jostles them again, unsurprising considering the fact that they're standing frozen in the middle of the dance floor, and Spencer is suddenly and immediately aware of just how close Derek is.

And if Derek's hand on his back is hot then Derek against his front is like the fucking sun. Derek's body heat is quickly seeping through Spencer's clothes and right into his bones, warming him down to his very core.

Derek presses close, something in his eyes that's there and then gone in the blink of an eye, and he's deliciously hard muscle all up in Spencer's space but he's more than happy about it.

He doesn't know where to put his hands, rests them on Derek's shoulders just to move them down his arms, a ghosting touch, stopping at Derek's hips, and fluttering up again.

Derek huffs a laugh against Spencer's cheek and guides his wrists with a gentle touch to rest on Derek's shoulders.

Spencer can feel the muscles shifting under his hands when Derek wraps his other arm around him too, drags his palm up Spencer's back until it rests between his shoulder blades. Spencer can feel it pressing against his spine on every inhale.

He drops his head, it feels so heavy, his senses so heady with Derek's touch, his warmth, his smell so up-close and intense. Everything about Derek is so intense.

Spencer presses his palm to the base of Derek's neck, feels his pulse beating there, and almost without conscious thought his hands slide around to cup the base of Derek's neck.

If he lifts his head now, Spencer thinks, all it would take would be the slightest pressure and Derek would follow his touch to meet Spencer's mouth. And one moment he's thinking it and the next he's doing it, looking up at Derek for real this time and guiding him the last of the way, the torturous last millimeters that Spencer's been aching to close ever since he turned around and stumbled into Derek's arms.

Derek's lips are soft and forgiving against Spencer's and the scratch of his stubble is a delicious juxtaposition and then Derek is opening his mouth under Spencer's and his tongue is velvety hot and Spencer just loses himself in the sensations of the kiss.

Derek is the one who finally pulls away, breathing hard, and Spencer's hand twitches involuntarily at the back of Derek's neck, trying to keep him close.

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek smiles because all it takes apparently is one kiss and now he can read Spencer's mind.

"I know," Spencer murmurs but his grip on Derek's neck doesn't relax until Derek leans in again, ghosting his lips across Spencer's in the most delicious tease.

"Let's get out of here," Derek whispers into Spencer's mouth.

"Now," Spencer agrees and Derek smiles again, brilliantly bright, like staring directly into the sun.

"You're gonna have to let me go for that," Derek says, laughter just tinging his words, when Spencer doesn't move.

Move, Spencer, he tells himself, but it still almost physically hurts to pry his hands away from Derek's skin. He thinks he might never be able to stop touching Derek now that he's started, now that he knows he has permission.

He lets go of Derek just long enough to turn them both heading for the exit, pushing through the thick crowd. Derek's arm comes up around Spencer's waist - or maybe he never let go? - pulling him tight against Derek's side and Spencer relishes in the feeling.

The crowd tugs and pulls at them, but Derek's arm is like a fortress around Spencer's waist, holding him impossibly close.

The drive home happens in a blur, only marked by the distance between their skin, the time between their touches.

"I need to drive," Derek laughs at one point. "You're a menace, Spencer."

As soon as the door of Spencer's apartment clicks shut behind them Spencer is stepping into Derek's space, pressing up against his front so they're chest to chest and nose to nose. Derek hums low under his breath and Spencer can feel the vibrations of it in his rib cage, in his heart.

He takes another step, infinitely closer, but Derek doesn't back away, just stands there, strong and immovable and Spencer is suddenly consumed by the overwhelming urge to get as close to him as possible.

Spencer finds Derek's hands without looking away from his face and traces his fingers across the back of his hand. He circles Derek's wrists, just to see if he can, and follows the veins and the cords of muscles up his forearms, dipping into the hollow of his elbow where the skin is thin and he can feel Derek's pulse jumping. Derek swallows heavily and licks his lips and Spencer feels his own mouth tug up in an answering smile.

His fingers ghost across Derek's biceps and they jump under his soft touch, whether involuntarily or by design Spencer can only guess.

He traces the line of Derek's shoulders until his fingers meet in the hollow of Derek's throat. He rests his hands there, fingertips just brushing Derek's collarbones, palms flat against his chest.

Derek is still looking at him and Spencer is still looking at Derek and neither of them has spoken since they entered Spencer's apartment.

Spencer reaches up, cupping Derek's face with one hand, his thumb sweeping across Derek's cheek. Derek's cheek is rough with the beginnings of stubble and Spencer moves his thumb higher, over Derek's cheekbone until it rests just below his eye. The skin there is soft and so thin and Spencer is hit with the sudden thought of how fragile this is. How beautiful Derek is, but how breakable and his heart aches with it.

"You are," Spencer whispers, breaking the silence that hangs like spun glass between them, "you are so beautiful, sometimes it hurts me to look at you."

Derek opens his mouth but no sound comes out, no words, just a breath, barely there. Spencer traces his index finger over the swell of Derek's bottom lip and Derek's tongue flicks out, almost instinctually, to meet him.

"Spencer," he whispers and Spencer pulls him closer with the hand that's still on his cheek, pulls him closer until their mouths meet and he can feel Derek's eyes flutter shut against his cheeks.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Derek asks, his lips dragging across Spencer's as he forms the words.

"Yes," Spencer gasps into his mouth.

Derek's knuckles brush against his stomach when Derek grips his shirt and just that quick touch has Spencer burning up all over again. He's dragging his hands over Derek's arms, his neck, his chest, almost frantic in his search for more skin.

"Hey, hey," Derek chuckles, letting go of his shirt to frame Spencer's hands with his own, "you're gonna have to let up so I can take your shirt off, okay?"

Spencer nods, his hair falling into his eyes. His blood is boiling and he _needs_. He doesn't understand how Derek is so calm, he's just grateful for him, without Derek's cooling touch he would've come undone by now.

And how ironic that Derek's skin is like fire under his hands and yet Derek's touch is the only thing that can cool his feverish desire. Like Derek is both the illness and the cure, his doom and his saving grace.

Derek finally pulls Spencer's shirt up and over his head, his knuckles dragging across Spencer's chest the whole way, making him shiver in the most delicious way.

The moment he's free of his shirt he's dragging Derek's shirt up, rucking it up with his palms pressed flat to Derek's chest, inefficient but oh so satisfying, which makes Derek huff out a laugh before he grabs his shirt in both hands and pulls it off in one smooth motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders rippling.

With all that bare skin before him Spencer doesn't even know where to touch first. Derek decides it for him, pulling Spencer in with an arm around his waist pressing their naked chests together from hips to necks.

"Like this?" Derek whispers against Spencer's mouth, pulling back slightly when Spencer leans forward to seal the kiss, and grinning at the undignified noise Spencer makes.

"Yeah, just like this," Derek answers his own question and this time when Spencer leans in Derek meets him halfway, wrapping his arms around Spencer and pulling him even closer.

They break away, gasping in the space between them, and Spencer drags his hands up Derek's chest over hard muscles and soft skin, out across his shoulders and down his back. He wants to touch Derek everywhere, commit every inch of Derek's skin to memory so that if this is all he gets, at least he'll never forget.

"Bed," Spencer manages to gasp, almost an afterthought.

"Yeah," Derek says, a breathless little laugh when Spencer, again, can't quite make himself let go long enough to lead the way to his bedroom.

They get there, somehow, but every moment Spencer isn't touching Derek gets lost, overshadowed by the heat of Derek's hands dragging across Spencer's skin.

Derek sits down hard on the end of the bed, not looking down, simply trusting Spencer to lead him.

Spencer stands in the open V of Derek's legs, framing Derek's face in his hands. He leans down slowly and brushes a kiss across Derek's mouth, Derek's sigh clinging to Spencer's lips. When he licks his lips he swears he can taste it there.

Derek's eyes follow the motion of his lips, his gaze dark and hungry, and Spencer leans down again to pepper a dozen sugar soft kisses on Derek's face.

Derek grasps his forearm with one hand and when Spencer pulls back to look at him Derek's eyes are scrunched shut, a frown on his face.

Spencer brushes his thumb across Derek's brow, follows the line with his mouth and Derek's eyes blink open again. He reaches up with both hands and taking hold of Spencer's face, his fingertips find the sharp curve of Spencer's jaw, his thumbs rest in the hollow of Spencer's cheeks as he pulls Spencer down to meet him in a hard kiss.

For a moment it's just their closed mouths against each other until Derek, without letting go or breaking away, leans back on the bed, pulling Spencer down with him. Right now Derek could lead him to the pits of hell and he would be okay with it as long as Derek would be dragging Spencer down with him.

Spencer ends up cradled in the V of Derek's legs and Derek smoothes his hands up and down Spencer's neck, almost as if he's calming an unruly horse.

Spencer kisses across Derek's chin and along his throat, pressing kisses to his collarbone and shoulder, the juncture of his neck.

"Spencer," Derek gasps, his hands running along Spencer's shoulders and up and down his back. Spencer looks up from where he was peppering kisses across Derek's neck.

"Derek?"

Derek pushes up and Spencer goes immediately, sitting up, but Derek puts a hand on his shoulder before he can back away even more.

"Let me," Derek murmurs, swinging one leg over Spencer's hips and turning them, gently easing Spencer back down onto the bed with a hand on his back. "Like this," he breathes, hovering over Spencer. "Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah okay," Spencer laughs, small and breathy in the space between them with Derek looking down at him.

He pushes Spencer's hair off his forehead with one hand, tracing the outlines of his face. Spencer's eyes flutter shut as Derek's finger traces whisper-soft across his eyelids. His thumb sweeps across Spencer's cheek as if brushing away tears that aren't there. In fact Spencer has never felt happier than right now.

When he opens his eyes again his eyelashes are wet and his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

"Hey, hey, Spencer," Derek murmurs, stroking his cheek, and the gentle touch just makes Spencer cry more.

A single tear sneaks out of the corner of his eye and rolls down his temple. Derek wipes it away with the pad of his thumb, a frown forming on his face, like thunderclouds pulling across a sunny sky. "What's up, Spencer? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

There is so much raw concern in Derek's voice, Spencer almost can't speak. "No," he chokes out, "I'm just, god this is so silly, I'm ruining the mood." Spencer swipes at his eyes angrily, tries for a laugh but it comes out shaking and watery.

"Hey, shhh," Derek soothes, rearranging them so he's lying on his side next to Spencer. "Whatever you need, babe."

"I just," Spencer gasps out, his hand flailing blindly until Derek reaches out and takes hold of it. "I'm just so happy to be with you," Spencer says, their intertwined hands resting just above his heart. "I don't," he wipes at his eyes again but the tears keep coming, "I don't even know why I'm crying."

"Hey," Derek says, turning Spencer's face so he's looking at Derek again. "It's okay, it's okay."

Derek's words are so soft and his touch so gentle, it rips a giant sob out of Spencer's chest. He buries his face in Derek's chest, one arm slung around Derek's waist to keep him as close as possible.

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek reassures him, one hand threading through Spencer's hair, the other stroking his back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Spencer whispers against Derek's chest, the words so small he's not sure Derek can even hear them. But Derek just keeps touching him, comforting and warming, and doesn't stop even when Spencer's tears keep coming and coming. Derek just keeps up the steady reassurances, calming noise, like the patter of rain against a window pane.

Spencer's heart is so heavy in his chest all of a sudden, as if someone has poured lead into his veins and he aches for Derek even though Derek is right there with him, closer than he's ever been, and still Spencer can't stop crying. He doesn't know anymore whether they're tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of dread.

He's pouring his heart out for Derek and Derek is staying right with him, taking it all in stride.

Spencer falls asleep like that, tears drying on his cheeks and Derek murmuring sweet nothings into his hair, and when he'll wake up in the morning they'll be lying chest to chest and nose to nose.


End file.
